


Mandalore Burning

by Revyra



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 05:06:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13873776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Revyra/pseuds/Revyra
Summary: Follows Bo-katan immediately after the events of The Lawless. Brinn is my oc, everyone else is a canon char





	Mandalore Burning

“I’m so sorry.”

Bo-katan’s gaze fell away from the sight of Mandalore burning, Obi-wan’s words searing into her soul.

Ha.

Sorry.

She could hear the door hiss shut and he was gone. Good riddance. Maybe he’d bring something back and they could save her home. Grip tightening on her blasters, she turned back to the war.

Sorry.

The familiar heat of her jetpack warmed her back and she launched herself into the air, firing into the haze with short, concentrated blasts. Traitors to Mandalore fell from the sky under her barrage.

Sorry.

She’d wanted to bring Mandalore back to its former glory. They were warriors at heart. The essence of war was in their very souls. Satine had been wrong. Mandalorians didn’t know peace. And now Satine was dead.

Sorry.

Could she have stopped it? She’d been prepared for Satine to die. She hadn’t necessarily wanted her dead, but she’d accepted that it was likely to happen. The problem was it hadn’t been an honorable death. She hadn’t even been killed by a Mandalorian. She’d been gutted by a damn offworlder Sith on a revenge quest.

Sorry.

Bo-katan pumped round after round into the traitors before landing on the platform to kill them with her own hands. A snarl twisted her face. Damn traitors. The Sith wasn’t Mandalorian. He could not rule them.

Pre Vizsla had been an arrogant, cocky, bullheaded fool, but he’d been Mandalorian. She could have pulled some strings, made the system work better if he was leading. It wasn’t like it had been difficult to get him onboard with her ideas.

She flung one of the traitors off the platform, breath coming in harsh rasps as she watched them fall.

She didn’t have time to relish the victory. A sharp clang rang out as something metal slammed into her back.

Bo-katan staggered forward a step, a hiss tearing from her. Spinning around to face her attacker, a fist crashed into her face. She crumpled. Choking and spitting blood, she snarled up at her attacker.

Clawed spikes broke from his helmet, arching high into the air in a crude mimicry of Maul. His black armor was stained red, making it difficult to tell where the paint began and the blood of her people began.

“You,” she snarled, fury pulsing through her.

“Traitor,” Gar Saxon roared. He pulled one arm back and swung viciously at her.

A scream erupted from Bo-katan as she spun to the side, grabbing Saxon’s arm as it breezed by her. Using his momentum, she flung him over her shoulder. He crashed to the ground with enough force that she felt it tremble beneath her feet. It hardly seemed to faze him. He lashed out, grabbing at her.

Bo-katan jumped back out of range and began circling him as he rose.

“You’re the traitor,” she hissed. “Maul isn’t Mandalorian. An outsider cannot rule us!”

Saxon stood, facing her. “He won leadership. Vizsla lost the duel. Nothing will change that.”

“It will change when I separate his head from his body.”

Saxon laughed. “You? You won’t even get close to him. I’m going to kill you and your pathetic Nite Owls. You don’t stand a chance.”

A cruel smile twisted Bo-katan’s face. No. The Jedi and the Republic were coming and they would burn Mandalore to the ground to get Maul.

“Come and get me, then,” she leered.

Saxon was still for a moment, then lunged for her. She ducked to the side, kicking his knee out from beneath him. He staggered, but kept his footing and swung at her. She blocked it and he steadied from her attack. They quickly became locked in hand to hand combat, hands and feet moving faster than she could keep track of. A few blows slipped past her defenses, hitting hard enough that she could tell they would bruise. Gritting her teeth, she slammed a hard kick into his side, followed quickly by a punch to his face.

Mistake.

He grabbed her arm before she could dodge away, holding her there with an iron grip. Snarling, she swung at him with her free hand only to have it caught as well.

“Got you,” he hissed. Before she could do anything, he twisted her around, bending her arm up behind her back. A stream of curses escaped her at the blinding pain. A sickening crunch filled her ears and bile rose in her mouth alongside a pained scream. He let go and her arm fell limply to her side before he kicked her to the ground.

Hissing in a sharp breath, she pushed herself back quickly, putting a pitiful amount of distance between them. He had definitely shattered her shoulder, she thought, pushing the pain down. She couldn’t fight him with one useless arm.

He seemed to be toying with her, letting her put some distance between them. “Where are you going, Kryze? I thought you were going to kill the Sith!”

Bo-katan staggered to her feet and kept moving back. She wasn’t going to die at his hands. Lifting her good arm, she clenched her fist. Burning blue blaster bolts shot from her armor, streaking toward him. To her dismay, they barely made a dent in his armor. He lunged for her.

Eyes widening, she leaped into the air, igniting her jetpack. One clawed hand grabbed for her, seizing her leg.

“No!” she gasped as she was jerked down. Slamming the boosters on her jetpack into overdrive, she aimed a clumsy kick at Saxon’s head and missed. He grabbed her leg with his other hand and yanked her from the sky, slamming her into the ground. She gasped as the breath was forced from her lungs.

A sudden scream of metal pierced her ears and the warmth from her jetpack turned into an inferno. Cursing, she disconnected herself from it and threw it off, scrambling away as quickly as she could. It exploded, flinging her away like a ragdoll. She skidded to a stop at the platform’s edge.

Shaking her head slightly to clear the ringing, she looked up slowly to find Saxon stalking through the licking flames toward her.

“Pathetic,” he snarled, seizing her by the throat before she could gather the strength to escape. “I can’t believe Vizsla chose you to be his lieutenant. If I had known you were this weak I would have killed you sooner.”

Bo-katan clawed at his hand, struggling for breath. Lip curling, she stared him down hatefully. “You traitor. No- hk- outsider will ever- hh!- rule Mandalore!” she choked out. He chuckled darkly. She could almost see his smile through the helmet.

“SAXON!”

Saxon’s head snapped over as a woman landed on the platform. Bo-katan recognized the armor through her blackening vision. Rook Kast. Another traitor.

“We have to go now. Lord Maul is in danger!” Kast yelled, and then she was in the air again, streaking away to the castle.

A harsh laugh escaped Bo-katan, snapping Saxon’s gaze back to her. “You failed,” she gasped, a mad smile twisting her expression. “We’ll kill him.”

Saxon’s grip tightened, making it impossible to breathe. Bo-katan’s hands scrabbled desperately at his, her eyes rolling back into her head.

“They won’t. And it’s a pity you won’t be alive to watch us slaughter your band of traitors,” he hissed. He let go of her throat. Bo-katan collapsed, choking and gasping as thorns raked down her throat. Something slammed into her chest, throwing her back over the edge.

“No!” The single word escaped her, a gasp bordering on a scream as the platform vanished beneath her. Wind full of smoke and fire raced past her as she fell. Choking on the air, the sting of wind tore tears from her eyes as the world raced up at her.

If this was how she died-

_Satine-_

Something- no someone- slammed into her, snapping her out of her suffocating thoughts. They were cursing viciously in her ear over the high pitched wailing of their straining jetpack.

“It’s not gonna hold. Brace yourself!” they yelled, turning so that they were between Bo-katan and the ground. They crashed, sparks flying as their armor clad bodies burned across the ground. The force flung Bo-katan from their hold, sending her skidding painfully before she came to a stop.

Groaning, Bo-katan slowly pushed herself up, touching a nasty gash on her cheek and wincing. Forcing her head up, she found her savior groaning on the ground. She knew that armor.

“Brinn?” she asked, painfully crawling over to them.

“The hell did you do with your jetpack?” they grumbled, gingerly flexing their fingers, then bending their arms and legs before sitting up.

“Saxon.”

Brinn muttered a few more curses, then stood slowly, offering one hand to Bo-katan. “Are we winning?”

She took it. “Maybe. I think the Sith are in danger. Saxon and Kast left in a hurry to get to them.”

“Oh that’s a show I can’t miss,” Brinn said, doing a quick check of their equipment. “You going to be alright without me?”

Bo-katan shot them a look.

“Just thought I’d ask,” they said, a smile in their voice. “I’ll be back after I gut the Sith.”

“No.”

Brinn stopped short. “What?”

Bo-katan shook her head. “They’re not going to fall today. You can watch, but do not engage them.”

Brinn looked at her steadily for a moment, then nodded almost solemnly. “As you wish,” they said, then launched into the air, leaving Bo-katan alone amid the devastation.

She straightened, wiping blood from her face as her gaze followed Brinn until the smoke hid them from her. Her eyes narrowed.

Mandalore needed a leader. Not a pacifist, not a dictator.

She did not know peace, but senseless violence was no friend of hers. She was not Satine, but that was alright. Mandalore didn’t need another Satine. Peace had been tried and it had failed them. Mandalore needed her.

She didn’t think the Sith would be defeated today. She’d seen the look in Maul’s eyes. He was not one to back down or give up. The war wouldn’t be won today, but then no war was. The Jedi would help them. Obi-wan would make sure of that, she knew.

As for now, patience would be her friend. Right now she needed to rally her people behind her, see how many were still alive.

She would succeed where Satine had failed.

It was the only way to stop this newfound feeling of guilt that had begun to chew away at her heart.

_I’m sorry._


End file.
